


Taiyama week 2016

by JoKessho



Category: Digimon - All Media Types
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-05
Updated: 2017-09-05
Packaged: 2018-12-24 05:25:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 6,537
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12005970
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JoKessho/pseuds/JoKessho
Summary: A collection of my one-shots for TaiYama week 2016.





	1. Balance

**Author's Note:**

> Right, last year's Taiyama week prompts and one-shots. I'm not too happy with these, but I'm posting them anyway because I have too many projects to be editing these now.

 

**TaiYama week**

**Prompt 3: Balance**

-o-o-o-o-o-

After hours, Yamato had finally given into Taichi’s begging, and agreed to play soccer with the brunet. This, however, was not what Taichi had had in mind when they had set out.

“Yama.” He said seriously, calmly. “That’s not how you play soccer; you’re supposed to kick the ball into the goal, not stand on it.”

The blond grinned widely, “But this way is so much more fun!”

Taichi’s eyebrow twitched. “But that way is not how it’s done.”

Yamato just shrugged, continuing to balance on the black-and-white ball. “You should give this way a try.”

Annoyed, Taichi grabbed his boyfriend’s hand, pulling him off the ball. The blond almost fell over, giving an indignant ‘Hey!’

“I only play _real_ soccer. Not your stupid circus-animal version.”

Yamato released a sigh, tearing his hand out of the other’s grasp, and crossing both arms over his chest. He gave Taichi a pointed look, “This is why I never want to play soccer with you anymore; you take it too seriously and it’s no fun like that. You just get more and more competitive every year.”

Taichi blinked in surprise. Did he? Was he taking it too seriously? But soccer was serious! He looked at his boyfriend—who had gone back to balancing on the ball—and thought back to their games in middle and high school. Sure, he had started taking soccer a bit more seriously when he had not been given the position of captain, nor been picked up by scouts, in high school. But that was just because he wanted to prove that he _was_ good and not just playing around...

Then again—he took note of the amused smile on the blond’s face, as he adjusted his position, waving his arms around erratically, trying to stay on the ball—maybe, just maybe, he could start seeing soccer as a joke; as something to do for fun again. He was no longer trying to impress scouts or gain a higher rank on a team. He was now at university, working towards a degree and proper career. Hell, he wasn’t even on the university team, having decided to focus more on his studies (and on his boyfriend).

He let out a laugh when his boyfriend finally lost his balance and was forced to jump off the ball. Blue eyes locked onto chocolate, and a gentle smile graced the pale features.

“You ready to have some fun?”

Taichi walked over, stepped onto the ball and placed his hands on the blond’s shoulders in order to keep his balance. He leaned in, kissing the other’s soft lips. “I’m ready.”  He then turned serious, “Sorry for being such a prat about soccer. Guess I never got over the fact that I wasn’t good enough to make a career out of it...”

Yamato leaned up to return the tender kiss, “I think you’re over it now.” The gentle smile turned mischievous, and one of the blond’s long, lean legs kicked out, knocking the ball out from under Taichi’s feet.

The brunet almost face-planted, both from the loss of the other’s shoulders, as well as his own footing. Surprised, he turned around, looking at the laughing blond.

“Catch me if you can! I’ll be scoring the first goal, unless you get a move on!” Yamato taunted over his shoulder. The brunet grinned, taking off after his boyfriend, for once not caring about the score, but, rather, about keeping that smile on Yama’s face.

-o-o-

“So who won?” Yamato asked, sitting on the ground, panting from the exertion.

His boyfriend shrugged, dropping down next to him, equally out of breath. “Doesn’t matter, does it?”

The blond shot him a mischievous look, “Oh, I think it does. And I think I won.” He flopped onto his back, grinning up at the brunet. “That means I’m topping tonight.”

Brown eyes widened, staring into sparking blues. He then adopted a feral look, jumping to straddle the lying male. “If that’s how it’s gonna be, then I’ll be taking soccer _real_ serious from now on.” He leaned in, to claim the blond’s lips. “And just for the record: I always win.”

Yamato just smiled, pulling the other back down.


	2. Growth

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I swear I am butchering these prompts... I don’t think ‘balance’ and ‘growth’ were supposed to be taken in the ways that I did.. Oh wells, my call! :P Enjoy!
> 
> Sorry that it’s short and pointless, but I’m short on time and want to post this.

**TaiYama week**

**Prompt 4: Growth**

 

-o-o-o-o-o-

Taichi and I were lying in bed, in our shared apartment, basking in the Sunday-morning light. He was slightly propped up against the headboard, and I was leaning on his bare chest. A tanned finger was tracing patterns on my side.

The chest behind me vibrated with a half-laugh, half-hum. I craned my neck, looking up at my boyfriend. He wore an amused expression on his face and I quirked an eyebrow at him in silent question.

He nodded towards the windowsill, where his eyes were trained. “Do you remember the day I bought that plant?” I nodded, mimicking his stare. It was a spider plant: long, arcing leaves, light green with a white band running down the middle. “You were so sure that I would end up killing it within the first week.”

I smiled to myself, remaining quiet. In fact, he _had_ killed it—rather, he had killed the first four plants. I kept buying new ones, to replace the dying predecessors.

“I’ve managed to keep it alive for half a year now.”

No he hadn’t, but, of course, I would take this information to the grave; he had tried so hard to care for the ribbon plant and had been so sad when it showed signs of poor health. The stab of pain in my chest forced my legs to move, and I went out the next day to buy a replacement.

“You kept telling me that I was overwatering it.” Taichi chuckled.

He had been.  He and the plant had gone through a honeymoon phase, where he had spent all his time at home, caring for it. He had watered it at least three times a day and had entire conversations with it. He even tried to get me to sing to it. I had refused.

“It grew on you, didn’t it?”

It was more of a rhetorical question, but I answered it silently: yes, it had. I ended up singing to it. Many times. Taichi caught me once—embarrassing me to no end—but I had covered it up by saying that I felt like singing anyway, so why not have an audience? He had smirked knowingly and offered to join the plant.

“Look at it now: it’s grown so much!”

Of course it had: I kept buying bigger ones.

He wrapped an arm tightly around my waist, pulling me closer to him, and kissing my hair.

“It’s like our baby.”

I did not want to think what would happen if we had a real baby.

“Do you think we should get another one?”

I leaned back into him, “Sure. It livens the place up, doesn’t take up too much space, doesn’t make noise, doesn’t make a mess, and it provides us with oxygen. I see nothing wrong with getting another one.”

Taichi blinked at me for a few seconds. “...Are you being sarcastic?”

I blinked back at him. “No.”

His hold on me tightened. “One can never tell with you...” He mumbled. Then, a bit louder: “Let’s go out today to pick out another plant. Where should we put it? Next to the other one? Or do you think they won’t get along?”

I cast my eyes to the innocent-looking plant on the windowsill. “Well...” I hedged. “We could err on the side of caution and put the new one in the living room. This one’s leaves are long enough to strangle any competition...”

Taichi’s head snapped to the spider plant. He tightened his hold further, turning to shield me from the plant. “Maybe we need to move this one, instead, and bring a friendlier plant to our bedroom.”

I let out a small laugh, “How could you tell whether a plant is friendly or not?”

“ _I_ can’t. But you, Mr. Bearer-of-Friendship, should be able to.”

“You know,” I started, chuckling; “Being friendly and friendship are not the same thing.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Yeah.”

“How come?”

“Well, friends aren’t always friendly to their friends, are they?” Taichi clearly did not understand. “Think of it this way: we’ve been friends for ages, but we’re not always friendly with each other. We’ll insult each other, and call each other names, and fight, and be blunt, and so on. But with strangers, or acquaintances, we act friendly and polite and civil. See my point?”

Taichi hummed, and plonked his chin on my head.

“I guess you have a point.” He was silent for a while, mulling it over. “But we still need to move that plant into the living room, before it grows so big that it strangles us in our sleep.”

“Sure, Taichi.” I smiled.


	3. Feelings

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> When looking at these prompts, I thought that there would be no way for me to butcher them, but—as it turns out—I was wrong.

 

**TaiYama week**

**Prompt 5: Passion (or) feelings**

-o-o-o-o-o-

“I have a feeling...”

“I have lots of feelings.”

Taichi gave the blond beside him a bored look. “That’s not what I meant, and you know it.”

Yamato just smirked in reply, before his face fell back to its neutral look. “So what feeling do you have and about what?”

The brunet shifted his position on the park bench, angling himself to get a better look at his companion. “Well, you see, I have a feeling that today is going to be a great day.”

A fine eyebrow rose, “Really, now?”

“Yes, really.” Taichi said with a definitive nod, placing his hands behind his head and basking in the summer sun.

“Huh.” Yamato said, looking out at the park and its many occupants. “I don’t see why you would be wrong, to be honest.”

Taichi cast a quick glance at the other male, quirking an eyebrow. “Aren’t you going to ask me how I know that today will be good? Or how it will be good?”

“Nope.”

“Aren’t you even the least bit curious?”

“Nope.”

“Why not?”

“Because.”

“Because isn’t an answer.”

“Don’t ask ‘why’ questions, unless you want ‘because’ answers.”

“’Because’ isn’t a full answer!”

“Sure it is.”

“No it’s not!”

“Howcome?”

“Huh?”

“What makes it not be a full answer?”

“It’s just one word!”

“’Yes’ is just one word and that was a sufficient answer when you asked me out.”

Taichi broke into a grin and his boyfriend grinned back. “Fine, so it’s not about the length, but about ‘because’ not answering anything.”

“It answers ‘why?’”

Taichi removed his hand from behind his head and put his face into them, mumbling something.

“What was that?” Yamato asked, leaning closer, making the other look up.

“I said: you’re impossible.” He paused, diving in for a quick kiss. “And I think the feeling is gone now.”

Smiling, Yamato grabbed one of Taichi’s tanned hands and held it with both of his paler ones. He kissed the fingers, before pulling on the hands, drawing Taichi closer, and kissing him. “I’m sorry. Do you still wish to share your earlier thoughts?”

“Nope.” Taichi smirked, withdrawing from his boyfriend and leaning back against the park bench.

A shrug, “Fair enough.” The blond stood, stretching, then looked down, offering a hand. “Want to walk around? I feel like I need to stretch my legs.”

Grabbing the hand, Taichi allowed himself to be pulled up. “Sure.”

The two strolled in silence, hands still clasped together. They got a few rude remarks from a group of younger teens, but chose to ignore them; it’s not like they hadn’t heard it all before. And, really, as long as they were both happy, then who cares about others’ opinions?

Taichi suddenly tugged Yamato to the right. “We should get something to eat.” He explained and Yamato saw a small kiosk up ahead. Chuckling, the blond allowed himself to be pulled along—he was also a bit peckish.

“Kamaboko?” Taichi questioned, pointing to the fish cakes.

“Sounds good.” Yamto nodded at him, then turned his attention to the man behind the counter, placing his order of five. His hand, however, was stopped before it reached his wallet.

“I’ve got it.” Taichi said, his own wallet in hand.

Yamato frowned, “I think you paid last time; it’s my turn now.”

“It’s not about turns.”

“Then all the more reason for me to pay!”

“Too late, I’m faster.”

“Taichi!”

The brunet just smiled, having already handed his money over, and taking the offered sticks.

“Come on.” Taichi glanced over his shoulder at the pouting blond and gave him a gentle smile. “You know, the reason I insist on paying when we’re out is because you cook for me when we’re in. If you insist on ‘taking turns,’ then I would say that this way is only fair.”

Yamato cocked his head to the right, mulling the thought over. He then shrugged, taking the offered fish cake skewer from his boyfriend, “Guess you have a point.”

Taichi grinned widely, “Yes, I do.”

The two continued to walk, munching on their food. By the time they were done eating, they had arrived at the main entrance. By silent, mutual agreement, the two went left, heading for the Ishidas’ apartment.

“You know...” Taichi started, grinning from ear to ear. Yamato threw him a questioning look. “I was right about this being a great day.”

Yamato looked up at the sky, still bright and cloudless. “Yet again, I do believe you’re right.” He then turned his gaze to the brunet, a teasing look shining in his blue eyes. “This must be a record.”

Taichi gave his boyfriend a light shove, before throwing an arm around the other’s shoulders and pulling him closer.


	4. Contrast

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Someone really needs to stop me from taking these prompts in ways that they’re clearly not meant to be taken in....
> 
> This probably takes place in 02 (even the authoress doesn’t know...)
> 
> Onwards, to fashion-guru Taichi! xD

 

**TaiYama week**

**Prompt 6: Contrast (or) conflict**

 

-o-o-o-o-o-

“Yama.”

The blond hummed in response, not even bothering to look up from the book he was reading.

“Why do you wear so much black?”

At this, blue eyes snapped up, staring at the brunet in curiosity.

“Does it bother you that I do?”

“You didn’t answer my question.” Taichi frowned, unimpressed by the question-answer.

Yamato returned his attention to his book. “And you didn’t answer mine.”

“I’m being serious!”

The semi-whine forced the black-clad male to put his book down and give his full attention to the male in the recliner. Yamato, himself, was lying on his stomach, on the sofa.

Earlier, Taichi had arrived—unannounced—at the door of the Ishida apartment. He had been let in, with no questions asked. It wasn’t uncommon for him to pop up at Yamato’s door, asking for food, company, help with homework, or something mundane. This time round, he had offered no explanation, nor any requests, and had turned down all offers of food or drink. With a shrug of ‘suit yourself,’ Yamato had led him to the living room and resumed his pastime.

The two had spent a few minutes in silence, until Taichi had asked his—seemingly random—question.

“I’m also being serious: Does it bother you that I don’t wear colours?”

“Not really, but black makes you look so washed out.”

Intrigued, Yamato shifted into a sitting position, eyeing the other male. He took note of the fact that Taichi wasn’t meeting his eyes.

“Where is this coming from?”

This time annoyed chocolate-brown orbs met ocean-blue. “Stop asking _me_ questions, and answer mine.”

Calmly, Yamato just shrugged, picking up his book again. “I don’t really have a reason; I just happen to buy and own lots of black clothes.”

“But _you_ pick them out, so you must have a reason.”

“Well,” Yamato stalled, thinking over his reasons. “I guess I just go with black, since I don’t really know what else to pick.”

Taichi cocked his head to the left, “So you don’t know what colour you’d look better in?”

The blond frowned at his book, “I haven’t really thought about it too much. Black is just easy.”

“Yeah, but it clashes horribly with your pale complexion. I mean,” Taichi shifted to keep Yamato’s attention better. “Your hair and skin are so light that black is like the worst colour you could wear. You should go for lighter colours that accentuate the paleness, not contrast it. If you wear strong colours, then your clothes will take the spotlight away from you, making you fall into the background, so to speak.”

Silence.

Then the male on the sofa burst into laughter. He tried to contain it, but Taichi was still offended.

“I’m being serious here!” The brunet reiterated. “You’re really good-looking, so you should take advantage of that and dress appropriately.”

The laughter stopped almost as abruptly as it had started. Wide, blue eyes looked up—tears of laughter giving them a slight shine.

“You think I’m good-looking?” The blond asked with a raised eyebrow.

The brunet lifted a shoulder in a half-shrug, “Well, yeah.” He averted his eyes to the ground, “I mean...” Taichi hedged. “Anyone would say that you’re not bad-looking... Not to say that you’re average-looking, either. I mean, even _I_ can tell that you’re good-looking. You probably don’t even need me to tell you, since everyone probably says it, and you know it yourself... I mean, you _do_ own mirrors...”

Courageously, Taichi lifted his gaze, taking in the gentle-amused—albeit slightly embarrassed—look on the blond’s face.

“Thank you.” The slight embarrassment turned into a full blush. “That’s really nice of you to say...”

Taichi gained some confidence from the other’s embarrassment. “Like I said, you don’t even need me to tell you that; all you have to do is walk a bit and look in a mirror.”

“Well,” Yamato looked off to the side, fighting down the redness that threatened to take over his entire face. “I’ve been looking at the same face for my whole life, so I consider it normal—average.”

Two brown eyebrows rose. “But girls are always saying how hot you are.”

Yamato shrugged, still not looking at the brunet. “Yeah, but their opinions don’t really mean much to me...”

Taichi smirked, “So mine does?”

The blush that had been fading returned. “Of course your opinion matters to me.” The blond muttered. “You’re my best friend and—whilst the only opinion that should matter in life is my own—I value your views and input, and if you don’t like me wearing black, then I’ll wear something else.”

Brown orbs blinked in shock for a few seconds; he had completely forgotten where this whole conversation had come from.

“If you like wearing black, then I won’t ask you to wear anything else. I was just wondering.”

Yamato looked up, meeting Taichi’s eyes again. “Where did this come from?” He asked again.

“Well,” Taichi started uncertainly. “Sora, actually.”

“Sora?”

Taichi shrugged sheepishly. “Yeah, Sora. She’s been getting really interested in fashion and was talking to me about it and I guess some of it just stuck and got me thinking about other things.”

“Those ‘other things’ being my fashion sense?”

“Not really your fashion sense, but your choice of colour.”

“Doesn’t that fall under the same category?”

“No. Yes. I don’t know. I don’t care. You should wear more colours.”

“Lighter colours, you said?”

“Yes.” Taichi hesitated, “Actually, Sora said. Although she didn’t really say so explicitly, but she was talking about low-contrast and high-contrast people and what colours they should wear and I came to the conclusion that you’re a low-contrast person and should, therefore, wear low-contrasting colours.”

Smiling, Yamato opened his book back up, “Guess I should take your advice, then. Fancy going shopping with me, oh wise fashion guru?” He smirked at Taichi, who stuck his tongue out.

Taichi continued to observe the reading blond.

“Yamato!” He suddenly exclaimed, startling the other male, which caused the book to fall onto the floor. “Sorry, but here.” He continued, still excited about his idea.

An idea that apparently involved taking off his shirt.

The blond stared, dumbfounded. He hadn’t even picked up the book.

“Put this on.” Taichi offered the garment to his companion.

Yamato eyed the piece of clothing. It was one of Taichi’s old soccer jerseys; light blue, with a small logo in place of the breast pocket, and ‘Yagami’ and the number 10 on the back.

“Go on, try it on.”

Slowly, a pale hand extended, taking the shirt. He placed it on the seat next to him, removing his own black dress shirt. Quickly, he slipped the jersey over his head and threaded his arms through the sleeves.

The jersey smelled of Yuuko’s preferred detergent, as well as a scent that was solely Taichi.

Yamato looked to the half-naked brunet, silently asking for an opinion.

Nodding to himself, Taichi grinned. “Thought so. It looks way better on you than that black thing.” He paused, cocking his head to the left again. “You should keep it.”

Yamato blushed again, fiddling with the hem of the borrowed shirt. “I can’t keep it.”

“Sure you can.” Taichi interrupted. “I’m giving it to you. Looks better on you anyway and it’s not like I need it anymore.”

“But what would you go home in? And I’m not walking around with ‘Yagami’ on my back.” Yamato shot at the brunet.

Taichi gave a short laugh, getting up and walking towards Yamato’s bedroom. “I have spare clothes here. Besides,” He threw a wink at the blond. “Lets people know who you belong to.” With that, he disappeared into the room, rummaging through the wardrobe, leaving a bright red Yamato on the sofa.


	5. Future

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Would you look at that: I actually wrote something serious.
> 
> I’m going with the canon Yamato-as-astrophysicist, in case someone is confused or anything...

 

**TaiYama**

**Prompt 7: Promises (or) future**

 

-o-o-o-o-o-

“Taichi, do you remember how you said that you believed in me?”

“Of course I do. Why do you ask?”

“Do you still believe in me?”

“Of course I do. Why wouldn’t I?”

“Well,” Yamato started, frowning at the off-white coffee mug that was sitting on the small table between the two males. The coffee shop they were in was saturated with people, but the blond and brunet had eyes and ears only for each other. “It’s just that I’ve been so bitchy lately and pushing you away...”

Taichi reached over, placing his tanned hand over the paler ones that were wrapped around the mug. “You’re just stressed about entrance exams. It’s ok, I understand. Hell, I should be more worried about them!”

Blue eyes glanced up briefly, before lowering back to the black liquid. “That’s also part of why I’ve been so bitchy...”

“Because you’re working your ass off and I’m just goofing off?” Taichi joked, grinning crookedly.

“Yes, but not because I’m jealous—in a manner of speaking—of how unfair that might be, but, rather...” He trailed off again.

Concerned, the brunet leaned closer, bringing his other hand up, too, to squeeze at his boyfriend’s. “Yama.” He prompted, using the pet-name—something that he usually didn’t do in public.

“It’s just that...” The blond started again, lifting his gaze to meet chocolate orbs. “I’m trying to get into some of the best universities in Japan and—no offence—but you probably won’t get into any of them, and if you do, then I might not even want to go to that one, if I get into my first choice. Unless you get into my first choice one, but that doesn’t have—whatever you’re interested in. You haven’t even said what you want to study!” Yamato’s voice had started rising during his speech and, by the end of it, he was practically shouting. A few of the people at nearby tables cast glances at him, but lost interest just as quickly.

“Yama, it’s all ok. Trust me; I’ve thought about this a lot and all you really need to do is focus on getting into the university that you want to. Your first choice is still Kyoto, right?” He confirmed as an afterthought.

The blond nodded, wiping at a stray tear. “I just don’t want to leave you, but I can’t throw away my future, either.”

Taichi stood abruptly, going around the table, to hug the sitting male to his stomach. “I told you: it’s going to be ok.”

“But how do you know that? How can you be so sure?” Yamato was nearing a mental breakdown; he had been cramming for months—teaching himself advanced physics and higher maths—on top of finishing up his normal high school studies and exams.

Taichi understood how hard Yamato was working and appreciated any time the blond took out of his studies to spend with Taichi. To his merit, the brunet had not pushed or demanded, but given and backed off when Yamato needed space.

“Listen,” Taichi muttered into Yamato’s hair, ignoring the strange looks he was getting form the other coffee shop occupants. “I have this whole thing planned out, ok?”

Yamato just sniffled, trying to keep the tears at bay.

Gently, Taichi pulled Yamato up and led him out of the shop and into the park across the street. They walked, hand-in-hand, through the park, to a more secluded section—one that they frequented often. The two high schoolers sat across from each other, on the grass by a large rock.

Yamato had managed to calm down by now, tears no longer threatening to fall. “How can you be so sure that things will work out, Taichi? You can’t control the future.”

“I may not be able to control everything, but I can control where I end up in a few months’ time.”

Shocked blue eyes bore into serious brown. “But—”

“Just,” Taichi interrupted, “Let me finish.” The blond nodded, remaining silent. “Like I said, I have it all planned out. I know which universities you want to go to and in what order. I’ve applied for colleges or jobs in those cities.” Blue eyes widened even more. “Trust me, I’ll figure out a way for us to stay together.” He squeezed the paler hands in reassurance.

The tears that had been shoved back returned, escaping to run down Yamato’s face, like tiny rivers. “You didn’t...”

Taichi gave a curt nod, “Of course I did. I don’t want to leave you any more than you want to leave me. Also, like you said, I haven’t really picked a subject to study, so I’ve just applied for different ones at each uni—whichever appealed to me. And—like I said—I’ve also applied for jobs, mainly coaching soccer at various clubs, schools, and the universities. I know I can’t really guarantee anything, but I’ve put too much effort into this for it to not work out.”

Speechless, and bawling his eyes out, Yamato practically flew at the brunet, landing a big, wet kiss on the other’s lips.

Smiling, Taichi returned the kiss, rubbing Yamato’s back, trying to calm him back down.

Yamato pulled away, “I’m sorry, Taichi.”

“What for?” Taichi asked, coking his head and wiping some of the tears away with his thumb.

“For not believing in _you_.” Yamato mumbled, looking down.

The brunet was taken aback for a few seconds, but then his face broke into a gentle smile, and he pulled the blond teen into his arms. “You have nothing to be sorry for; I should have told you what I was planning. I just didn’t want to stress you out even more, since I was pretty stressed with trying to find all these opportunities. I just figured that you didn’t need me bitching about my applications, when you had so much on your plate already.”

“Fuck.” Yamato choked out, into Taichi’s chest. “I really don’t deserve someone like you.”

Squeezing harder, Taichi kissed the top of the blond head, “It’s not about deserving; it’s about me loving you.”

“I love you, too.”


	6. Knives

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tri-verse AU. Not much else to say. Except, sorry this is pointless... Wrote this in like an hour..

 

**TaiYama week**

**Prompt 8: Freebie (“Knives”)**

-o-o-o-o-o-

Thursday evening found Taichi in the Ishidas’ kitchen, watching Yamato preparing dinner. Said blond was perfectly julienning carrots, with the speed of a master chef.

“Why are you so into knives?” Taichi asked from his position at the dining table. His voice was slightly muffled, due to his chin resting on arms that were folded on the table.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

Yamato put the carrots off to the side, picking up an onion and proceeding to peel it.

“I mean,” Taichi started, sitting up, to allow for easier speech. “That all your current band names have something to do with knives.”

“So what?”

“So why?”

Wiping his hands on the front of his blue apron, Yamato turned to the brunet, giving him a bored look. “Because knives fascinate me and I fantasise about slitting my wrists.” He then turned back to the counter, pouring oil into a large wok.

He missed the panicked look that overcame the other male’s face.

What he didn’t miss, however, were the hand grabbing his to turn him around and the fierce brown eyes scanning the underside of his forearm.

With an annoyed look, Yamato yanked his arm out of the other’s grip and resumed making dinner.

“Yamato stop cooking for a sec and let me see your arms.”

“Taichi.” It came out as an exasperated noise, rather than a name. “I was kidding, now leave me alone or dinner will be ruined.”

“No. Let me see!”

Taichi started tugging on the other, trying to move him away from the stove.

Ice-cold blue eyes flashed dangerously, as their owner rounded on the now-cowering brunet. “I’m serious, Taichi. Stop bothering me or I _will_ ruin dinner—on purpose.”

With a timid nod, Taichi returned to his seat. The threat of having inedible food was enough to make him sit still for the next half an hour, until dinner was ready.

As per his usual standard, Yamato’s cooking was divine.

The two chatted about mundane things, the topic of knives and slit wrists apparently forgotten.

Once they had finished dinner, Yamato boxed up the leftovers for his father and stuck the containers into the fridge. In the meantime, Taichi had wandered into the living room, to flick through the TV channels. Yamato joined him on the sofa after the first round of channel surfing was complete.

“Why is there never anything on?” Taichi complained, going for round two.

“Well it _is_ Thursday...”

“Didn’t they use to show action movies on Thursdays?”

Yamato shrugged in response, scratching at his wrist absently. “Guess not enough people watched them, or something.” He sensed a change in Taichi’s demeanour and cast his eyes to the brunet. “What?” His tone and posture both spoke of defensiveness.

Suddenly, Taichi pounced.

The two males went toppling off the sofa, and onto the floor, just barely managing to avoid hitting the coffee table. Taichi had Yamato’s hands pinned above the blond head, whilst he, himself, straddled the musician’s hips.

“What the hell?!” The fuming blond yelled, trying to buck the brunet off. “What do you think you’re doing?”

Just then, the front door opened and a tired-looking Hiroaki Ishida walked in. Only to freeze a second later.

“Uh.”

“Um.”

“Er.”

Silence reigned for a few minutes, until, shrugging, Hiroaki took off his shoes. “I’m home.”

“Wel-welcome home.” Yamato managed form under the other high schooler.

Hiroaki walked into the kitchen, calling over his shoulder: “Is there food?”

“Yeah, in the fridge. I didn’t know you’d be home this early, so I didn’t keep it out.”

The sounds of a container and utensils drawer opening drifted into the living room, followed by Hiroaki. The eldest male flopped down on the sofa and shoved some of the stir-fry into his mouth.

“You know,” He started, eying the two males, whom were still lying on the floor, stacked one of top of the other. “This might be a good place to say something along the lines of: ‘It’s not what it looks like.’” He took another bite of food.

“Well it’s not and that much should be obvious.” Yamato defended.

“Or is it actually exactly what it looks like?” Taichi grinned.

Yamato bucked harder, managing to slightly offset the brunet. Taichi, however, just corrected his position and smirked.

Hiroaki eyed the two, before getting up and heading towards his room, to finish his dinner and then most likely sleep. “Whatever. Try to keep the noise down, would you? And don’t forget that its’ a school night.”

“Dad!”

“Right you are! I promise to be quiet, but can’t make any promises for this one.”

“Taichi!” Yamato’s indignation was met with laughter. He glared, “Get off of me, now!”

“In a bit; I still have to make sure that you haven’t cut yourself anywhere.”

“Taichi! I was kidding!”

“I still need to check!” With that, Taichi lifted the hem of Yamato’s shirt, earning an ear-splitting squeak.

A bedroom door burst open. “I thought I told—” Hiroaki froze again, staring at the pair. He gave Taichi an annoyed look, before taking the empty container into the kitchen. He returned to the living room. “Do I honestly need to ask what you’re doing to my son?”

“Checking him over to make sure he’s not cutting himself.”

“Cutting?”

“With knives. He has a strange fascination with them.”

Another silence reigned in the Ishida household.

“Right.” Hiroaki said, rubbing at his temples. “Whatever you’re doing, keep it down, please; I need to sleep.”

“Like I said ear—oomph!”

Yamato interrupted the brunet by shoving a fist into his stomach. “Shut up and go home.”

Taichi rubbed his stomach, trying to figure out when he had stopped pinning the other’s hands down. He turned to Hiroaki, “Hey, pops, can I spend the night?”

Hiroaki shrugged, “Fine by me as long as you’re quiet and keep that one quiet.” He said, pointing to his son.

“You’re not staying the night.”

Brown eyes turned to regard blue. “And why not, pray tell?”

“Because I said so. I don’t want you here. Go home.”

“Pops said I can stay.”

“And stop calling him that; he’s not your father.”

“He doesn’t mind. Right, pops?”

Another noncommittal shrug.

“See? He’s fine with it. Besides, it’s just good practice for the future.”

A blond eyebrow rose, “Excuse me? What practice for what future?”

“When we get married.”

“Who said we’re getting married?”

“I did. And pops approves. Right, pops?”

Shrug.

“See? We’re getting married.”

Yamato let out a long sigh. “If I agree to it, will you finally get off of me?”

Brown eyes widened. “I almost forgot!” He re-grabbed the hem of Yamato’s shirt, pulling it over the blond’s face. His tanned fingers feathered over the skin there. “Hmm.”

With a huge burst of energy, Yamato sprung into a sitting position, knocking Taichi off and onto his back. He straightened his shirt, casting a worried glance to the side—only to note that his father had left the room again.

“Hmm,” Taichi said again, staring at the now-clothed chest. “It seems like you were kidding. Your wrists and arms are fine, as is your chest.” He lifted his gaze to annoyed blue eyes. “Maybe I should check you over fully...” Brown eyebrows wiggled suggestively.

Yamato rolled his eyes, standing up. “If you plan on staying, then stop being an idiot.”

Taichi’s face lit up and he glomped Yamato, knocking them both back down. “You won’t regret this! I’ll keep you _very_ good company.”

The musician didn’t look impressed. “I thought I told you to stop being an idiot.”

“I’m not.”

“Yes you are.”

Taichi’s face fell into a pout, “You’re not being very nice...”

“So? I’m not nice. Now get off, so we can go to sleep.”

Brown eyes turned mischievous. “Oh, _sleep_ , huh?” He did, however, get up, offering a hand to the blond.

“Yes,” Yamato grabbed the offered hand, “Sleep.” The musician started pulling the soccer player towards the former’s bedroom. “It is a school night.” He paused, leaning in to whisper, “And dad’s home.”


	7. Bonds

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't like this one; it seems kind of forced, but...

 

**TaiYama week**

**Prompt 2: Bonds**

-o-o-o-o-o-

“Taichi, where are you taking me?”

“Just come on and you’ll see.”

Yamato dug his heels slightly into the ground, trying to prevent the excited brunet from dragging him further into the woods.

“You know I don’t like surprises.” The blond complained.

Grinning wider and pulling harder, Taichi replied: “Then you’re really going to hate this.”

Defeated, Yamato let himself be pulled into the depths of the Digital forest that Taichi had insisted they visit that day. Why? Apparently that was a surprise.

Their near-run through the forest ended in a clearing. A clearing filled with their Chosen friends—both the younger and older generations.

Yamato gave the brunet a confused look, “What’s going on?”

“Well,” Taichi started, “it’s kind of our five-year anniversary today…”

Blue eyes blinked in astonishment. “Taichi,” the eyes flickered to their friends, all of whom were smiling broadly, knowing looks on their faces. “We’ve never bothered celebrating anniversaries; we decided not to five years ago.”

Taichi looked sheepish, “Yeah, but I wanted to do something special and Hikari brought up anniversaries a few weeks ago, so I figured I’d just combine the two and have this event.”

“You’re not making much sense, you know.”

“Sorry.” Taichi let go of Yamato’s paler hand, moving to stand in front of their friends, all facing the blond. “We’ve been together for five years, now.”

“So we established.” Yamato crossed his arms over his chest, not seeming too impressed with the whole setup.

Taichi gave him a bored look. “Just let me finish.” A fine eyebrow rose, but its owner remained quiet, as per the request. “I also wanted to do something special for you. I was going to keep it more private--but since Hikari brought up anniversaries and you said, some time ago, that we haven’t all gotten together in a long time--I thought that I would put this thing together.”

“You still haven’t told me what this ‘thing’ is.”

“I’m getting to it! Just give me a sec; this is kinda nerve-wracking.”

Yamato uncrossed his arms, looking slightly worried.

“I also wanted to do something special for you. I was going to keep it more private--but since Hikari brought up anniversaries and you said, some time ago, that we haven’t all gotten together in a long time--I thought that I would put this thing together.”

“You still haven’t told me what this ‘thing’ is.”

“I’m getting to it! Just give me a sec; this is kinda nerve-wracking.”

Yamato uncrossed his arms, looking slightly worried.

Taichi lifted his gaze, all uncertainty gone. “I love you. I will keep loving you for as long as I live. I know you don’t really believe me, since you say--and rightly so--that we can’t predict the future, but I know this as a fact. Loving you is my choice and it’s a choice I will keep making for the rest of my life. There is nothing you can do to make me stop loving you.” Here, Taichi took a deep breath, hand going into his pocket, the determined look still in place. “I promise here--in front of all our friends and Digimon partners--that I will never stop loving you.” He brought his fisted hand out of his pocket, extending it toward Yamato, and opening his hand.

There, on his open palm, glittering in the Digital sunshine, was a thick, silver ring. It was plain and probably not very expensive, but, to Yamato, it was the most amazing thing in the world at that moment.


End file.
